


All the shine of a thousand spotlights

by Darkoverstar



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Notting Hill-AU, unresolved past feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-01-23 13:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21320923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkoverstar/pseuds/Darkoverstar
Summary: Jon Snow is the owner of a small and not so successful bookshop for travelers in the Notting Hill area of London. His life is quiet and almost monotonous, until one day Sansa Stark, one of the most famous actresses in the world and sister of his childhood best friend, enters his library…-He swings out of the little shop, turns the corner of Portobello Road and bumps straight into a woman.The woman.The orange juice, in its foam cup, flies.It soaks her.«Seven Gods!»She shrieks, and he feels mortified.«Here, let me help»He murmurs, then grabs some paper napkins and starts to clean it off - getting far too near her breasts in the panic of it.«What are you doing?!»She exclaims, and as she moves back, the sunglasses fall off her face.Jon meets a pair of eyes that are deep blue, profounds and multifaceted like the ocean.He would recognize their colour everywhere.Flabbergasted, his lips parted with amazement, he steps back, studying her face.No, there are definitely no more doubts.A falsh of guilt crosses her face.A name slips from his lips.«Sansa??»«Hi Jon. It's been a while, isn't it? "
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 43





	1. A bolt from the blue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This is the first fic I publish in this fandom, and I'm very exited (yet nervous): the story is essentially a Notting Hill retelling, so as you'll see I've made some changes, first of all in their past.
> 
> As always thanks to my lovely beta, MyOneAndOnly. I'd be lost without you.
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you'll enjoy this work of mine, and please let me know what you think of it. It is really important to me and you'll made my day

Jon Snow closes the blue door behind him and starts walking along Portobello Road.  
He had bought that house in Notting Hill when he and Val got engaged, thinking it would become their nest, their den.  
But then the story with the blonde had come to an end and now Pypar, a skinny but full of life guy, was living with him.

Jon puts his hands in his pockets, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to enjoy the feeling of the warm spring air brushing against his skin.  
Jon likes walking along Portobello Road, getting lost in its kaleidoscope of colors: the street during the week is full of fruits and vegetables stalls, patches of colour that makes up a mosaic of tints and shades.  
The weekend instead is the time for the antique dealers' stalls and Jon always stops to admire one in particular, which sells little stained glass windows; he loves to lose himself looking at the blades of light piercing the glass and interweaving magnificent webs of light.

That day is no exception: Notting Hill bursts with life.  
While Jon continues towards his shop he greets Edd and Hobb, respectively the owner and chef of the restaurant "Castle Black".  
The two are outside this one, the signboard with the menu of the day just positioned.  
What makes the man even happier to live in Notting Hill is the fact that a good amount of his friends also reside in the area.

A few more meters and Jon arrives at his destination, his travel book shop, which on the top says "Watchers on the Wall" in simple golden letters.  
With a sigh he pushes the door and enters the store.  
It is a small shop, at first glance it might seem almost chaotic, bookshelves everywhere, with little secret bits round corners with even more books.  
But Jon is fond of it, it always reminds him of the good man from whom he inherited it, Aemon Targaryen.

Sam Tarly, Jon's sole employee, immediately meets him enthusiastically.  
He is very keen, and always tries to see the bright side of the things, unlike Jon.  
«Good morning Jon»  
Jon stretches his lips in what according to his calculations should look like a half smile.  
«Hi Sam»  
Snow doesn't waste any time, he has never been an idler, and he knows that what awaits him is the worst part of his job: the accounts.  
As he walks to his desk, Sam trots behind him.  
«You know Jon... finally...yes, I mean ...»  
Jon looks at him questioningly and raises an eyebrow to urge him to speak quickly.  
«Oh, well...finally I'll go out with Gilly. Like a date, I mean»  
Sam throws out in one go. Jon slaps his shoulder.  
«I'm happy for you Sam, really»  
And he means it.  
Finally those two have decided to make a change in their relationship, made up of implications and unresolved feelings.  
The contentment passes quickly, as soon as he begins to make some calculations.  
A wrinkle forms between his eyebrows.  
He is always brooding, his friends tease him about it.  
Well, _this_ time he has every right to be brooding.  
«Classic. Absolutely classic. And the balance is...negative»

In Notting Hill, where shops usually lasts only a few years before giving up, Watchers on the wall is practically an institution. It had been in here for close to 60 years, under the wise guide of Aemon Targaryen.   
But times are changing and the shop might soon join the statistics of shops going under. Over the last few years the store has seen a drastic decline in customers and that can be felt in the profit.

Sam approaches him again, tormenting his hands and having already figured out what's upsetting his friend and boss.  
«Shall I go get a coffee? You know, to ease the pain»  
Jon sighs deeply, pinching his nose between his fingers.  
«Yes, a black espresso. The most restricted possible. All I can afford»  
Sam nods, trying to smile, then walks over to the door. Going out, he gets in the way with a woman, and then holds the door open for her before going out.  
Jon looks up casually.  
The woman is wearing a pair of huge sunglasses, which cover almost half of her face, and a hat that hides her hair. The man catches just the flicker of a flame-red braid.  
Jon pouts his lips. He has a vague feeling, the impression that he's missing a piece of a puzzle.   
There is a moment of pause, before he decides to say:  
«Hello, can I help you?»  
The woman turns to him, and stops for a moment.  
She has something familiar, yet he fails to frame where he could have seen her.

What he doesn't know is that instead she has recognized him.  
The young woman quickly returns to herself, and decides not to show any sign of knowing him. When she speaks she is very self-assured and self-contained.  
«No, thanks. I'll just look around»  
Jon shrugs.  
«Fine»

She wanders over to a shelf as he watches her - and picks out a book about High Garden. Jon recognises the book immediately, and winces; that book is not any good so he blurts out, almost without thinking:  
«That book's really not good - just in case, you know, browsing turned to buying. You'd be wasting your money.»  
She turns briefly towards him, but he cannot read her expression under those sunglasses.  
«Really?»  
Honesty is so ingrained and natural in Jon. He can't fool people, even if it could mean a step closer to saving the store.  
«Yes. This one though is ... very good»  
He picks up a book on the counter.  
«I think the man who wrote it has actually been to High Garden, which helps. There's also a very amusing incident with a bush of roses»  
Jon doesn't know why he says all those things, the filter between brain and tongue seems to have broken. The woman does not react.  
«Thanks. I'll think about it»

Jon turns his head and spies something odd in the TV monitor beside him. He excuses himself  
«If you could just give me a second»  
He feels her eyes following him as he moves toward the back of the shop and approaches a man in slightly ill-fitting clothes.  
His eyes are hard when he turns to him, but his tone is not so.  
«Excuse me»  
«Yes?»  
Jon sighs  
«Bad news»  
The man maintains an enviable poker face.  
«What?»  
Jon runs his hand through his dark curls.  
«We've got a security camera in this bit of the shop.»  
«So?»  
«So, I saw you put that book down your trousers.»  
Jon begins to grow impatient, especially because the man continues to deny.  
«What book?»  
«The one down your trousers»  
«I haven't got a book down my trousers»  
Jon crosses his arms and gives him his most intimidating look.  
«Right - well, then we have something of an impasse. I tell you what - I'll call the police - and, what can I say? - If I'm wrong about the whole book-down-the-trousers scenario, I really apologize.»  
The ruddy face of the man loses some color.  
«Okay - what if I had a book down my trousers?»  
Jon holds a smile of triumph. The finances are bad for him, the last thing he needs are the thieves too.  
«Well, ideally, when I went back to the desk, you'd remove the guide to the Eyrie from your trousers, and either wipe it and put it back, or buy it. See you in a sec»  
He returns to his desk. In the monitor he spot the book coming out of the trousers and put back on the shelves. The redhead, who has looked at this, is now looking at a book on the counter.  
«Sorry about that ...»  
Jon whispers apologetically.  
That woman, perhaps a model given her slender and lithe build, slightly agitates him.   
Maybe because of the red hair, which reminds him of Ygritte, his first love?  
Her beautiful lips bends slightly into the idea of a smile.  
«No, that's fine. I was going to steal one myself but now I've changed my mind»  
He cannot avoid smiling himself.  
Suddenly the thief is there, next to her.  
«Excuse me»  
His gaze is watery but incredibly absorbed in studying her face. She moves slightly to the side.  
«Yes?»  
«Can I have your autograph?»  
Jon is silent. Is she famous? Is that why he feels like he knows her? Even her voice is strangely familiar.  
«What's your name?»  
She politely asks, and he beams with happiness.  
«Dontos»  
She signs his scruffy piece of paper. A moment after he tries to read it.  
«What does it say?»  
Dontos watches her expectantly. She shrugs.  
«Well, that's the signature - and above, it says 'Dear Dontos - you belong in jail.'»  
Jon lets out an amused snort. That woman has also the sense of humor.  
And yet, for some obscure and bizarre reason, he does not have the courage to ask her who she is.  
Dontos smiles  
«Nice one. Would you like my phone number?»  
Jon rolls his eyes, but she is much more seraphic.  
«Tempting but ... no, thank you»  
And so he leaves.  
The redhead turns to Jon.  
«I think I will buy both books»  
She gives him the one he suggested not to buy and then points to the one he instead suggested.  
«Oh - right - this one...on second thoughts maybe it wasn't that bad. Very useful for lighting fires, wrapping fish, that sort of things»  
He rambles as he handles the transaction. She looks at him with a slight smile.  
«Thanks»  
She murmurs, collects her bag and a second later, swift like a summer breeze, she's gone.  
Jon is a little dazed.

She's out of his life forever.

A silly thought, he knows.

Seconds later Sam comes back in smiling and carrying two cups of coffee  
«Black espresso as ordered!»  
Jon reaches for the cup, still dumbfounded.  
«Thanks»  
Sam duck the head.  
«It's everything alright?»  
«I ... I'm not sure. A person came here ... »  
Sam's face enlighten.  
«Who? Someone famous? »  
Jon sighs and decides to let this thing slip away.  
«No. No-one - no-one ... doesn't matter»  
They set about drinking their coffees.  
«Would be exciting if someone famous did come into the shop though, wouldn't it?»  
He leans on the desk.  
«Do you know -- this is pretty incredible actually -- I once saw Quentyn Martell. Or at least I think it was Quentyn. It might have been that broke from 'The Scent Of The Rose,' Loras Tyrell.»  
Jon frowns.  
«But Quentyn doesn't look anything like Loras»  
Sam reflects for a moment.  
«No, well ... he was quite a long way away»  
Jon raises an eyebrow with amused skepticism.  
«So it could have been neither of them?»  
Sam shrugs and smile again.  
«I suppose so»  
«Right. It's not a classic anecdotes, is it?»  
«Not classic, no»  
Sam shakes his head and Jon drains his coffee. «Right - want another one?»  
Jon asks, he feels deep into the bones that he needs something else to drink.  
«Yes. No, wait - let's go crazy - I'll have an orange juice»  
He nods and goes to the exit.

Jon walks down the street, still mulling over the red-haired client.  
That auburn shade, the slight scent that floated in the air once she left...all somehow familiar. He shakes his head and his curls bounce.  
He goes on Westbourne Park Road and collects his juice in a coffee shop.   
Then he swings out of the little shop, turns the corner of Portobello Road and bumps straight into a woman.  
_The_ woman.  
The orange juice, in its foam cup, flies.  
It soaks her.  
«Seven Gods!»  
She shrieks, and he feels mortified.  
«Here, let me help»  
He murmurs, then grabs some paper napkins and starts to clean it off - getting far too near her breasts in the panic of it.  
«What are you doing?!»  
She exclaims, and as she moves back, the sunglasses fall off her face.  
Jon meets a pair of eyes that are deep blue, profounds and multifaceted like the ocean.   
He would recognize their colour everywhere.  
Flabbergasted, his lips parted with amazement, he steps back, studying her face.  
No, there are definitely no more doubts.  
A falsh of guilt crosses her face.  
A name slips from his lips.  
«Sansa??»  
«Hi Jon. It's been a while, isn't it? "


	2. Shot through the heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her bright and shining blue eyes are piercing him.  
«Thanks. Well...»  
They stand in that corridor -- in that small space. When he feels her breath on his face he realizes with a shiver how small the distance between them is...  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to MyOneAndOnly
> 
> Here we go, this time the chapter is a little longer. Enjoy!

Yes, it is.  
It's been...how many? Ten years?  
He looks at her, startled.  
He can't believe this is happening to him.  
That Sansa Stark, the shining star of Hollywood, one of the most gorgeous woman in the world, but above all, the sister of his childhood best friend, is standing here, right in front of him.

And of course, _of fucking course_, he has just covered her in orange juice.

Letting aside for all the questions for the moment - and trying to build a fragile dam to stop the impetuous river of feelings and memories - he focuses on the most impelling problem, that is the abhorrent stain on her candid shirt.

_One step at time_

«Aye, it's been a very long time...look, I live just over the street -- you could get cleaned up...»

He stumbles a little on the words and she moves the hand in a nonchalant gesture  
«No thank you. I need to get my car back».

Jon suddenly realizes that he doesn't want to let her go, not now, not in this way; so he regains a little bit of confidence and when he speaks his tone is much more firm  
«I reckon that in five minutes we can have you spick and span...and maybe meanwhile exchange a few words?»  
She remains silent for a while, than she lets out a tired sigh.  
«Okay. So what does 'just over the street' mean -- give it to me in yards»  
Jon points at the end of the street.  
«Eighteen yards. That's my house there».  
She picks up her sunglasses and her fancy bags and follows him closely until they reach a beautiful blue door.  
He didn't lie -- it is eighteen yards away.  
She remain silent as Jon opens the door and beckons her to enter.  
«Come on in. I'll just...»Jon runs in further -- it's a mess.  
He is an ordinate and methodical person, and he cleans the house every week, but somehow Pyp always manages to transform the place in a bloody mess.

_I'll kill him_

He kicks some old shoes under the stairs, bins an unfinished pizza and hides a plate of breakfast in a cupboard.  
Some moments later Sansa enters the kitchen. There's a moment of silence, in which they only stare at each other.  
She looks so stunningly beautiful, even all covered in juice. The tv does not do her justice.  
He wants to ask her so many things, why she's here, how Robb is doing, why she acted like she didn't know who he was...

_One step at time, remember_

He clears his throat  
«Here, come»  
Jon guides her up the stairs, after taking the bag of books from her.«The bathroom is right at the top of the stairs»She nods and gives him a grateful little smile, then heads upstairs.And Jon is left with his thoughts. He tries to find a way to channel all what he is feeling while tidying up frantically.

When he had left Winterfell, he had just turned eighteen, and Sansa was still a sixteen year old girl.  
Jon had mulled over his decision to leave for a very long time, and eventually, when he had opted to enlist, he had left the Stark family behind not without a certain amount of bitterness.  
When he was a child he had moved from one foster family to the other, until around the age of eight he was entrusted to a couple in Winterfell. They weren't exactly good parents, but at least staying there he had the opportunity to become friend with Robb, and Eddard Stark had made up for the father figure that he'd never had.  
He knew that instead he was loathed by Ned's wife, Catelyn, probably because he was a boy with no roots and an unclear future.  
Even with Arya and Bran he got along well, Rickon was still little, as for Sansa...  
He had never had a close relationship with her; when he and Robb were kids, he only thought of her as his pretty, slightly petulant little sister, strongly influenced by her mother.  
Growing up she had developed her personality, much more serious and strong, and her beauty had begun to flourish.  
Jon wasn't blind, and for some reason the atmosphere was always strange when he found himself with her, he felt like walking on thin ice.  
Then he had left, enlisted and ended up in the so-called "Night Watch" army sector, and never returned, not even after his dismissal.  
Aemon had left his business to him, and it seemed like an excellent opportunity to start over. Every now and then he sent a postcard to Robb, but they didn't kept in touch anymore, as for Sansa...he had only seen her on TV.

Jon returns to reality when hears Sansa's feet on the stairs.  
She walks down, wearing a short, sparkling black top beneath her leather jacket.  
For a moment he feels a flutter in his chest, his breath is caught; he is dazzled by the sight of her.  
He slips a hand through his shaggy hair.

«Would you like a cup of tea before you go? Or coffee? Well, orange juice -- probably not...»  
He moves to his very empty fridge -- and offers its only contents.  
She slowly follows him, looking like a doe ready to escape from the hunters.  
«Or something cold -- coke, water, some disgusting sugary drink pretending to have something to do with fruits of the forest?»  
Jon feels like he's making a fool of himself, but honestly he doesn't really know how to act.  
«Or would you like something to nibble -- apricots, soaked in honey -- quite why, no one knows -- because it stops them tasting of apricots, and makes them taste like honey, and if you wanted honey, you'd just buy honey, instead of apricots, but nevertheless -- there we go -- yours if you want them»  
He feels like a complete disaster, though his heart warms at the sight of her little smile.  
«A cup if tea would be great»  
«Perfect»  
He nods, happy to be able to keep his hands busy in something useful and banish an inappropriate thought

  
(That has nothing to do with playing with her auburn strands…)

She stalks to the table and sits, her hands entangled together.  
He feels like something is tormenting her, and God knows how much in this moment he wants to see that bright smile that he remembers she is capable of.  
When the tea is ready he sits on the other side of the table and hands Sansa her cup.  
«So...how's Robb doing?»  
He decides to start with a relatively neutral topic  
«Robb's good. He directs the company with dad, he seems happy»  
Jon welcomes the news. Robb has been an important part of his childhood, one of the reasons why it hadn’t been completely crap.  
«Bran, Arya, Rickon?»  
Her features are illuminated by fondness as she answers  
«Rickon has to choose the college, Bran has won a scholarship and he's going to do a training internship at the Three Eyed Raven, while Arya...she's finding her way»  
She concludes with a sardonic half smile.  
«Great»  
It's good to have news of all of them and he had never doubted that everyone in that family would be successful.  
He collects all his courage but nonetheless when he speaks it's almost a whisper  
«And you, how are you doing?»  
She is visibly caught off guard. Jon understands immediately that she is not used to being asked how she feels.  
She nibbles her lower lip before speaking, several moments later  
«Well, great I think»  
The hand that is still around the cup tightens it's grip.  
«Are you sure?»  
He asks in a low and, he hope, reassuring tone.  
It seems to work, since she lifts her gaze to him and lets out a sigh  
«Not, not really. You know...not all that glitters is gold»  
A frown appears between her perfectly shaped eyebrows.  
«Sometimes I feel like I don't really know who I am, that I'm only wearing masks, that I'm only who the public or my agent or anybody else want me to be, and in certain moments I'm stranded, I almost forget myself»  
He doesn't think twice. When he extends his hand and takes hers it's almost a reflex.  
Her hand is silky, warm.  
She winces but doesn't move her hand.  
«I can only imagine...you know, some things have to go very wrong before they can be right. But let me tell ya one thing, you're great, not because of the star system, but because this is how you are»  
A long moment passes, and the awarness of what he said starts to sink in Jon.  
She simply stares at him, her eyes are door wide open to a whirlwind of feelings.  
Then suddenly she glances at her watch and quickly releases her hand from his grip, jumping up.  
«I better be going. Thanks for your help and...for the talk»  
The door has closed again, and he doesn't know how to feel.  
«You're welcome and, may I also say... heavenly»  
It has taken a lot to get this out. He is not a smooth-talker. Never has been.  
After that sentence, his heartbeat speeds up, and he tries to recover  
«I had to take my only chance to say it. After you will have read that terrible book, you're certainly not going to be back to the shop...so, say hi to Robb for me»  
She smiles, not a big smile, but a genuine one  
«Of course. Thank you. It was nice to see you again»  
He guides her towards the door  
«Yeah, surreal but nice. Take care»  
In a slightly awkward moment, he shows her out the door.  
She walks away, he closes the door and shakes his head in wonder.

_'Surreal but nice.' What was I thinking?_

He shakes his head again in horror and wanders back along the corridor in silence.  
His head is still spinning when he hears a knock on the door.  
He moves back, casually...  
«Coming»  
He opens the door. It's her.  
«Oh hi. Forgot something?»  
He asks trying to sound at ease. She smiles apologetically:  
«I forgot my bag»  
«Oh right»  
Bold for him to assume it could have been for another reason.  
He runs into the kitchen and picks up the forgotten shopping bag.  
Then returns and hands it to her  
«Here we go»  
Her bright and shining blue eyes are piercing him.  
«Thanks. Well...»  
They stand in that corridor -- in that small space. When he feels her breath on his face he realizes with a shiver how small the distance between them is.  
She smells wonderfully, always has.  
He wonders briefly if her lips are as soft as her hands.  
Second time saying goodbye.  
Yet there's a strange feeling of intimacy that he couldn't explain.  
One second he's staring at her, the second later she leans forward and kisses him.  
At first he gets a real sense of strangeness from those lips, those famous lips on his.

_I'm kissing Sansa_

And yes, they're even softer than her hands.  
After the initial bewilderment, he realizes how good this feels, how right this feels; and as he starts to really enjoy the moment, she steps back.  
There's an absolute silence that needs to be filled.  
But all what he manages to say is:  
«I apologize for the 'surreal but nice' comment. Disaster...»  
Her voice seems unaffected, even if thin  
«Don't worry about it. I thought the apricot and honey business was the real lowpoint».

Suddenly there is a clicking of a key in the lock. «Oh my God. My flatmate. I'm sorry -- there's no excuse for him»  
Pypar walks in, and greets them distractedly  
«Hi»  
«Hi»  
They both respond simultaneously.  
Pyp walks past unsuspiciously and heads into the kitchen.  
«I'm just going to go into the kitchen to get some food -- and then I'm going to tell you a story that will make your balls shrink to the size of raisins».  
Sansa and Jon exchange a glance.  
«Probably better not tell anyone about this»  
Spats out the redhead, and Jon nods, even if he's dying inside.  
«Right. No one. I mean, I'll tell myself sometimes but... don't worry -- I won't believe it»  
She crack a smile one last time.  
«Bye»  
And she leaves, with just a touch to Jon's hand.

Pyp comes out of the kitchen, eating something white out of a styrofoam container with a spoon. «There's something wrong with this yogurt»  
He says and gives a sideways glance at the container. Jon watch without really seeing.  
«It's not yogurt -- it's mayonnaise»  
«Well, there you go»  
He takes another big spoonful  
«On for a movie night tonight? I've got an absolute classic.»

The lights are off. Jon and Pyp are on the couch, just the light from the TV playing on their faces. Just for a change, Jon is frowning.  
He had accepted the offer to avoid thinking about Sansa and trying to forget the feeling of her lips on his own.  
But of course what did Pyp have to choose?  
_Escape from King's Landing_, starring no other than Sansa Stark.  
He watches her on the screen, dressed in a stylish medieval dress. Her character is walking around the halls of a castle with her famous co-star, Loras Tyrell.

_They would be the perfect couple_

Jon thinks irritated.  
The movie goes on, and Jon thinks that it's enough.   
The moment he decides to get up, Pyp says: «Imagine -- somewhere in the world there's a man who's allowed to kiss her»  
Jon almost chokes on his spit. He coughs and his friend watches him worried.  
«Jon, are you ok?»  
Several seconds later, his breath is normal again.  
«Yes...now excuse me, I'm going to brood in my room».

—o—O—o—

The next day, Jon is quietly co-existing with Sam in the shop.  
Thankfully Sam isn't nosy, so he hasn't enquired about Jon's strange behaviour.  
When a customer enters, he glances briefly at him: he is tall, with hard and sharp dark eyes.  
«Do you have any books by Barth?»  
Jon frowns.  
«No, we're a travel bookshop. We only sell travel books»  
The man is not put off by that.  
«Oh right. How about that new Theon Greyjoy thriller?»  
«No, that's a novel too»  
Jon turns his attention back to the accounts  
«Oh right. Have you got a copy of Dance with Dragons?»  
Jon feels himself at the edge. Yesterday the thief, today this moron.  
How he is supposed to enjoy his work and try to save his bookshop?  
If he answers the man another time he's going to implode. So, to avoid a massacre, he decides to call Sam  
«Sam-- your customer»  
Jon sighs and looks up. At that moment the entire window is suddenly taken up by the huge side of a bus, obscuring the light -- and entirely covered with a portrait of Sansa -- from her new film 'Porcelain, ivory, steel'.  
Jon's head drops in his hands.

_It's like being haunted_

—o—O—o—

Jon and Pyp are on the rooftop terrace, passing the day.  
The terrace is small and the plants aren't great -- but it overlooks London in a rather wonderful way. Jon is reading 'The Jade Compendium', but his mind keeps drifting away. He looks up from the book to Pyp.  
«So -- any messages?»  
Jon is not a technological person, he has an ancient mobile phone and never checks the voicemail at home.  
Pyp is relaxing, sprawled on a deckchair.  
«I wrote a couple down»  
«Two? That's it?»  
Jon tenses a little  
«You want me to write down all your messages? Buy a damn smartphone Snow, or check the the voicemail yourself...if this depended on you, you would use fucking ravens!»  
Jon closes his eyes in exasperation.   
«Who were the ones you didn't write down from?»  
Pyp squeezes his eyes while trying to remember.  
«Ahm let's see -- ahm. No. Gone completely. Oh no, wait. There was -- one from Mormont I think»  
«Right. No one else?»

_Jon you dumbass_

«Absolutely not»  
Pyp leans back and relaxes.  
«Though if we're going for this obsessive writing-down-all-messages thing -- a girl called something like Sans called a few days ago.»  
Jon freezes -- then looks at Pyp.  
«What did she say?»   
«Well, it was genuinely bizarre... she said, hi -- it's Sans-- and then she said, call me at the Wall-- and then gave herself a completely different name.»  
«Which was?»

Jon's heart is drumming in his chest.  
Is this real life? Or is he imagining everything?  
«Absolutely no idea. Remembering one name's bad enough...»  
Jon mutters a curse under his breath and then rushes torwards the phone.  
With slightly trembling fingers he dials the number of the hotel.  
These minutes of waiting are the longest of his life.  
Finally he hears the click  
«Hello?»  
«May I help you, sir?»  
Well, shit. He hasn't exactly planned what to say.  
«Ahm, look this is a very odd situation. I'm a friend of Sansa Stark -- and she rang me at home the day before yesterday -- and left a message saying she's staying with you... »  
«I'm sorry, we don't have anyone of that name here, sir»  
The man respond politely but firm. Jon passes a hand in his untamed curls.  
«No, that's right -- I know that. She said she's using another name -- but the problem is she left the message with my flatmate, which was a serious mistake...»  
He shifts a little on the chair.  
«Imagine the stupidest person you've ever met -- are you doing that...?»  
Like he was evocated by his words, Pyp appears, reading a newspaper.  
«Yes, sir. I have him in my mind»  
«And then double it -- and that is the -- what can I say -- git I'm living with and he cannot remember...»  
Suddenly Pyp lifts his head and tap his forehead with a hand  
«Try Stone. Alayne Stone»  
Jon glances at him, unsure.  
«What?»  
His friend shrughs.  
«I think she said her name was ' Alayne Stone'»  
Praying the old Gods and even the new Gods, he gives it a try.  
«Does ' Alayne Stone ' mean anything to you?»  
«I'll put you right through, sir. Stone is indeed the magic word. Wait a minute»  
Jon's mouth goes dry  
«Oh my God»  
He mutters, and, a very long minute later he hears her voice  
«Hi»  
«Oh hi. It's Jon, Jon Snow...»  
He makes an effort not to sound a complete jerk, but some tension is released from his body when he hears her argentine laugh.  
«You played it pretty cool here, waiting for three days to call»   
Even if the tone is casual, Jon can't help to panic a little  
«No, I've never played anything cool in my entire life. Pyp, who I'll stab to death later, never gave me the message»  
«Oh -- Okay»  
Jon closes his eyes and bites the bullet  
«Perhaps I could drop round for tea or something?»  
One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.  
«Yeh -- unfortunately, things are going to be pretty busy, but... okay, let's give it a try. Four o'clock would be good»  
A very big smile flourishes on Jon's face.  
«Right. Great»  
When the call is closed he finally relaxes on the armchair.  
«Classic. Classic.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts here and/or on [tumblr](http://darkoverstar.tumblr.com/)


	3. Dream on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks, this gonna be a short chapter.  
Sorry, I'm lacking of motivation
> 
> Even if beta'd, I apologize for eventual mistakes, English isn't my first language

Today is the day.  
Jon jumps off a bus and walks towards the Wall.  
He knows that it's one of the most luxurious hotels in town, but he wasn't expecting any less; he carries a small bunch of roses, since he seemed to remember Sansa liked them in the past.  
He really hopes it's still like that.  
Jon enters and approaches the lifts, pushes the button and the doors open, but as he is getting in, a young man joins him.  
«Which floor?»  
Jon asks politely  
«Three»  
Jon pushes the button. They wait for the doors to close and after some moments the lift lands.  
The two men get out and Jon heads right.  
So does the guy.  
He is puzzled; he slows down as he approaches room 38.  
So does the other one.  
Jon spots.  
So does the man.  
He points at the number.  
«Are you sure you...?»  
«Yes»

_There's something very wrong_

Jon shakes his head and knocks; some moments later a very tall, bright, well-tailored woman opens the door.  
«Hello, I'm Brienne. Sorry -- things are running a bit late. Here's the thing...»  
She hands them a very slick, expensively produced press kit, with the poster picture of Sansa, for the movie _'Porcelain, ivory, steel.' _  
A few seconds later -- they enter the main waiting room.  
There are a number of journalists waiting for their audience.  
Jon is lost, really lost.

_What the hell is happening here?_

«What did you think of the movie?»  
A blonde handsome man with a fierce smirk asks them as they enter.  
The guy that followed him is quick in his response  
«Marvellous. Oscar- winning stuff.»  
They both turn to Jon for his opinion but he doesn't know what to say apart from "I really have no clue of what the fuck you're talking about".  
Well, surely he wasn't expecting this, and he hopes that the confusion on his face will make them desist.  
But they are still watching him.  
So he simply nods.  
«I agree»  
Suddenly the tall woman, Brienne, if he understood well, is next to them.  
«I'm sorry. I didn't get down what magazines you're from.»  
The blond man turns to her, a small wicked smile  
«Wench, I was expecting more from you»  
He scolds her, but his tone is good-humored and accompanied by a mischievous shimmer in his green eyes.  
The woman cast him a murderous but - if it is possible - warm glance.  
«Shut up Jaime. This is not the time nor the place».  
He exhibits a croocked smile and tries to retort  
«No»  
Brienne cuts him off, than she turns back to them, ignoring the man.  
«Times»  
His lift-mate responds immediately.  
Jon is still baffled, but at least this quarrel gave him time to look for an answer, that he found on a coffee table  
«'Horses and Direwolves.' The name's Jon Snow. I think she might be expecting me»  
He adds hopefully.  
«Okay -- take a seat. I'll check»  
They sit down as Brienne goes off.  
Jon's mind is unfocused, he can't think of anything aside from this total mess.  
And Sansa, of course.  
Several minutes later, Brienne reappears and calls his name, then guides him through several corridors, and stops in front of a door.  
«Mr. Snow, you have five minutes»  
Brienne stays outside while Jon, swallowing, decides to enter.  
There Sansa is, framed in the window. Glorious.  
«Hi»  
Jon hums, captured by her sight.  
Her flaming hair glow under the light that filters from the window, and she appears of an almost supernatural beauty.  
And when she smiles at him, it's like the entire room turns from black and white to Technicolor.  
«Hello»  
Jon holds the flowers in his hands.  
«I brought these, but clearly...»  
His gaze wonders through the room, full of other flowers, but Sansa quickly reaches him, and takes them.  
«Oh no, ho -- these are great»  
Suddenly, so near to her, Jon feels a fair amount of tension.  
It's, to be honest, a really weird situation.  
They grew up together, but they were never close.  
Maybe also because they were kinda interested to one another.  
But after all these years, in which they no longer had any contact, he can say that they hardly know each other -- and the last time they met, they kissed.  
Even if, frankly, all he wants to do now is to kiss her beautiful lips again.

_Fuckfuckfuck_

«Sorry about not ringing back. The whole two-names concept was totally too much for my flatman's pea-sized intellect»  
He decides to say in the end. It's always good to start with an apology.  
«No, it's a stupid privacy thing. I always choose the name of one my characters --»  
In that moment, Sansa's boss comes in.  
He is, in fact, a dwarf, but nonetheless his figures gives off a certain authority.  
«Everything okay?»  
Sansa rolls her eyes.  
«Yes Tyrion, thanks»  
Then he stares at Jon with his loopsided two-coloured eyes  
«And you are from 'Horses and Direwolves' magazine?»  
He seems skeptic and rather amused.  
Jon nods.   
«Is that so?»  
Jon shrugs his shoulders and Tyrion settles at a little desk in the corner apparently to make notes.  
There's a pause and Jon feels he has to act the part.  
They sit in chairs opposite to each other and Jon clears his throat.  
«So I'll just fire away, shall I?»  
Sansa nods, quite amused herself.  
«Right. Ahm... the film's great... and I just wondered -- whether you ever thought of having more... horses in it?»  
She has to take a laugh back.  
«Ahm -- well -- we would have liked to -- but it was difficult, obviously, being set in high mountains, in the Eyrie, you know. All we used were mules»  
«Obviously. Very difficult»  
Tyrion snorts loudly and turns to them.  
«Honestly, I don't know if it this interview is more absurd or boring. Really? Horses?»  
He shakes his head and exits the room with his swaying gait.  
Jon puts his head in his hands.  
«I'm sorry -- I got outside -- they thrust this thing into my hand -- I didn't know what to do»  
Sansa eyes are comprehensive and empathic.  
«No, it's my fault, I thought this would have been over by now. I just wanted to...»  
She can't look at him and starts tormenting her long fingers.  
«...to sort of apologize for the kissing thing. I seriously don't know what got in to me. I just wanted to make sure you were fine about it.»  
Jon feels a little weave of hysteria hitting him

_Is this just a big horrible joke?_

«Absolutely fine about it»  
Tyrion re-enters, and heads immediately towards a carafe of wine.  
«Sorry, all this is too much for me to bear sober»  
He grabs the pitcher and goes back to the door. He turns again.  
«Ah, Mr. Direwolves, remember that Miss Stark is also keen to talk about her next project, which is shooting later in the summer.  
Maybe you'll find interesting the idea of horses in this one»  
Jon shifts uncomfortably in the chair.  
«Oh yes -- excellent. Ahm -- any horses in that one? Or direwolves, of course. Our readers are equally intrigued by both species»  
Sansa looks at him almost apologetically  
«It takes place underwater»  
Jon starts to feel embarrassed, as the red creeps up his neck.  
«Yes. Right... But if there were horses, would you be riding them yourself or would you be getting a stunt horse person double sort of thing?»  
Tyrion barks a loud laugh and then exits. Jon puts his hands in the untamed bush of his curls.  
«I'm just a complete moron. Sorry. This is the sort of thing that happens in dreams -- not in real life. Good dreams, obviously -- it's a dream to see you»  
A strange sparks of malice glitters in her blue eyes.  
«And what happens next in the dream?»  
It's a challenge. Jon is surprised, but in an incredibly good way.  
So he decides to play the game.  
«Well, I suppose in the dream scenario I just... ahm, change my personality, because you can do that in dreams»  
He slightly moves forward, and so she does.  
It's like a magnetic force pulling them one towards the other.  
«...and walk across the room and kiss the girl but you know it'll never happen»  
He pauses. Their eyes are locked, while almost unconsciously they keep getting closer, their legs touch when...Tyrion enters. Again.  
«Time's up, I'm afraid. Sorry it was so short. Did you get what you wanted?»  
Jon ignores the flash of affectionate derision in his different eyes.  
«Very nearly»  
He is very surprised when Tyrion unawarely decides to help him.  
«Maybe time for one last question?  
«Right»  
The dwarf goes out -- it's their last seconds.  
«Are you busy tonight?»  
He blurts out, but he understands immediatly the answer just looking in her stunning eyes.   
«Yes»  
The Imp enters, with another journalists in tow.  
Sansa and Jon stand and shake hands formally.  
«Well, it was nice to meet you. Surreal but nice»  
Between her smile and his reference Jon's knees almost give up.  
«Thank you. You are 'Horses and Direwolves' favorite actress»  
With a last laugh, he exits fairly despondent and heads for the door.  
He turns to go, but is accosted by Brienne.  
«If you'd like to come with me we can rush you through the others»  
«The others?»  
Without being able to oppose her, he finds himself in a whirlwind, tossed about by a stranger to another, interviewing people that Jon doesn't have the faintest idea about, maintaining his supposed identity as a journalist.

He faced some of the worst things in the world-but somehow this managed to top them all.

~o~O~o~

Jon emerges traumatized into the corridor to find it full of camera crews. And there is Brienne.  
«Mr. Snow?»  
Jon turns to her wearily. He can't stand the idea of another round  
«Yes?»  
«Have you got a moment?»  
Her blue eyes have a kind shade; with a sigh he decides to follow her.  
They knock on a door.  
_Her_ door, he realizes with a shiver, and suddenly all the exhaustion goes away.  
«Come in»  
Jon enters, feeling a certain nervousness.  
They are alone again.  
It's unfair that every time he sees her she's even more beautiful.  
Sansa meets his eyes, and, he notices in this moment, her cheeks are of an adorable shade of pink.  
«Ahm. That thing I was doing tonight -- I'm not doing it anymore. I told them I had to spend the evening with Britain's premier equestrian journalist»  
She smiles and he laughs, a full, liberating laugh.  
«Oh well, great. Perfect. Oh no -- shittity brickitty -- it's one of my friends' birthday -- shit -- we're meant to be having dinner»  
He feels a complete idiot, but Sansa doesn't miss a beat.  
«Okay -- fine»  
Jon shakes violently his head  
«But no, I'm sure I can get out of it»  
She takes a step towards him, only one, and when she speaks her voice is a little sheepish  
«No, I mean, if it's fine with you, I'll, you know, be your date»  
Jon blinks once. Twice.  
He must have misunderstood, maybe it is time to do a hearing check.  
«You'll be my date at my friend's birthday party?»  
He is expecting her refusal, but against all odds, she nods.  
«If that's all right»  
His heart starts racing so hard that he fears she might hear it.  
«I'm sure it's all right. My friend Sam is cooking and he's acknowledged to be the worst cook in the world, but you know, you could hide the food in your handbag or something»  
Her eyes are two sapphires, shining bright with mirth.  
«Okay»  
His smile matches hers.  
«Okay»

~o~O~o~

Alone in his house, Jon reflects on how life can be weird.  
He goes back to the memories of this childhood, of bliss and cheerful laughters, when he and Robb used to play pretending to be knights.  
He had spent more time at the Stark mansion than at his own home, he was like another Stark child.

A memory strikes him: the first time he felt a flutter in his stomach at the sight of her.  
It was just a winter day, the snowflakes fell lazyly; Arya and Bran were building a snowmen while Robb was sick in bed.  
Jon wasn't in the mood to play, so had decided to go for one of his usual walks in the woods of the Stark's property.  
He stopped when he heard a hiss, near the lake in the center of the park.  
Cautious and silent, he had approached the source of the noise, and he had seen her: beautiful and ethereal, Sansa skated lightly on the frozen surface of the lake, under the big red maple tree.  
It was a vision of unique beauty and purity, which had filled his heart and moved him.  
He had been looking at her for quite a while, losing track of time.

Sansa was like that snow, he finds himself thinking.  
After that time he had failed to look at her the same way he did before.  
Something unexplainable (or maybe he just didn't want to explore those feelings, fearing what the response may be) had captured him then.

And now Sansa is gonna be his date.  
Yep, life's definitely weird, but sometimes in the best way possible.


End file.
